


Aftershocks

by SkippedALightFettJango



Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/F, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkippedALightFettJango/pseuds/SkippedALightFettJango
Summary: Set immediately after the events of "Fire Across the Galaxy," this multi-chapter story finds the crew of the Ghost dealing with the fallout of their encounter with Tarkin and the Grand Inquisitor and their entrance into the larger rebellion.





	1. Hera

The hyperspace tunnel cast a bluish glow across Hera Syndulla's face as she sat at the controls of the _Ghost_. She and Chopper were alone on the Corellian freighter. Kanan was still in the medbay on the _Thunderer_ , one of the Alliance corvettes they were travelling with. Zeb, Sabine, and Ezra were over there too. Ezra was being debriefed on his encounter with the Inquisitor, Zeb was scrounging for spare parts, and Sabine was...Hera didn't know exactly what Sabine was doing over there.

And so the ship was quiet, certainly the quietest it had been since Ezra had joined the crew almost a year ago. It's already been a year, she thought. So much had changed since the boy came aboard, and now it felt like everything was changing yet again. The future is always in motion, Ful--Ahsoka had occasionally told her.

Hera was having trouble adjusting to the knowledge that Fulcrum, her contact in the Alliance for so long, had a name. It was easier with code names. They were safe. They made things impersonal. They made people into assets. When Fulcrum ordered Spectre 1 left behind and forgotten, it was a case of one military asset making a judgment call about another military asset. To Fulcrum, Spectre 1 was an expendable asset. But they were not assets; they were people. Ahsoka Tano had ordered that Kanan Jarrus be abandoned to torture and execution. Hera was not sure if she could forgive the Togruta woman for that. She had always told herself she was ready to make the hard decisions of a military commander, ready to sacrifice the members of her team for the common cause, but when push came to shove, she wasn't. For that matter, neither was Tano, it seemed. She had brought an Alliance fleet to their rescue, after all.

Hera hoped Kanan would be released from the medbay soon. He was trying to be stoic, but she knew he was going stir-crazy in there. The torture had taken its toll on him, though, and he was suffering from exhaustion. It hadn't been obvious at first -- he had seemed fine right after their escape, like himself. In retrospect Hera knew that he was running on pure adrenaline at that point. The physical toll didn't become apparent until he collapsed in her quarters that night. She felt guilty, but she had been so worried, had been so close to giving him up for dead, that she just needed to feel him inside her, to feel that he was alive. He had looked exhausted, but had given into her advances. Hera had felt safe and happy for just a moment until he fainted mid-thrust. She felt mortified, but the medical officer on the _Thunderer_ said that Kanan would be fine with some fluids and supervised bedrest. Hera hoped the doctor was right as she tried to ignore the ache between her thighs.


	2. Sabine

Darcam grunted and strained as his thrusts reached their fastest rhythm.

“Remember what I said,” Sabine Wren warned as she gripped the metal table she was bent over. It felt cold against her upper torso.

“Yeah, I’ll pull out,” he groaned, “In fact…”

The thrusting stopped, Darcam let out a choked cry, and Sabine felt the warm driblets landing on the small of her back. She palmed the rag she had thought to bring along, reached around, and managed to wipe up the liquid as it started to roll onto her buttocks.

Sabine stood up and began pulling up her panties and body glove from where they had come to rest around her knees. She turned around and looked at Darcam, who was fastening his belt. He met her gaze, stepped towards her, and clumsily cupped her breasts, tweaking her brown nipples with his thumbs.

“That was nice,” he said. “Did you…uh?”

“Yeah, hon,” Sabine lied, patting his cheek affectionately. She looked past his striking blue eyes and shaggy blond hair and noticed his faded acne scars for the first time. He was just a boy, like so many of the soldiers in this rebellion. She pulled out of his grasp, put on her bra, pulled on her body glove the rest of way, and zipped it up. I’m sure I look like a child to a lot of people too, she thought, fastening her breastplate, Hera and Kanan certainly treat me that way sometimes. I’m a soldier in a war, though, and I could die tomorrow, and if I want to fuck a guy I just met, I will.

“Maybe we could do this again?” Darcam asked as she checked that her gauntlets and pauldrons were secure.

“I’ll call you,” she replied as she fastened her holster belt, planning to never speak to him again after leaving this empty interrogation room. “Hey, you don’t think there’s any hair dye on this ship, do you?”

“Um, I actually saw some in the quartermaster’s stores,” he replied, “But I think it’s Captain Holdo’s. I don’t think she’ll let you have any.”

“I don’t who Captain Holdo is, but I’m sure she can spare some.”

***

Sabine scanned up and down the shelves of the storage room. She had told the sleep-deprived quartermaster that she needed some cleaning solution for her blasters, and he had waved her on through. She had grabbed a container of solution, in case he bothered to stop her on the way out, but now she was looking for her real objective.

“Ah, here we go,” she said to herself in triumph. There was…a lot…of hair dye. An absurd amount, in fact, for a military vessel. And in any color she could want. Normally Sabine had to steal some neutral color that belonged to a vain old man and futz with it, mix it with other chemicals to get a hue she liked. This…this was like winning the lottery. Sabine excitedly shuffled through the various metal boxes. Corellian Lilac, Vardosian Crimson…Sabine grabbed several of the small containers. This will last me for years, she thought.

“Nice hair,” came a sing-song voice from behind her. Sabine gasped, spinning around and clutching the containers of dye to her chest. She found herself face to face with a girl no older than herself, with hair as blue as the sky. Sabine looked at the girl’s brightly dyed hair, looked down at the four containers of dye in her hands, and casually moved her hands behind her back. This couldn’t be _Captain_ Holdo, could it? She was practically a child.

“Hi, I’m Amilyn Holdo,” the girl said cheerfully, taking a step toward Sabine. Holdo moved with a strange balletic grace, and she had an astoundingly long neck. With her long flowing dress and elaborated feathered tiara, Sabine thought she looked like some kind of weird bird. A pretty bird, though. “You’re Sabine Wren.” It wasn’t a question.

“Uh, yep, that’s me,” Sabine replied, starting to shuffle her feet in the direction of the entrance.

“I disagreed with the decision to rescue the Spectre team,” Holdo said with an incongruous smile, “I thought it would dangerously compromise operational security. But since it was successful, I’m glad you’re here. The Alliance needs all the help it can get.”

“Thanks, I think.” Sabine continued trying to edge away, the dye still hidden behind her back. Holdo awkwardly lunged in her direction. Sabine flinched as Holdo reached behind her and snatched a container of dye from the shelf. She held it out to Sabine.

“Here, this one is more your color.” Sabine took the container hesitantly, then placed the other containers back on the shelf. She smells nice, Sabine thought.

“Thank you,” Sabine said, gesturing at the dye. “I’ll, um, see you around.”

“I hope so!” Amilyn said, smiling.

Sabine turned and left the storage room quickly, her face becoming flushed


	3. Ezra

Ezra Bridger sat lotus style in his bunk, his back against the bulkhead, trying to concentrate on a holobook. He had been able to download some new ones from the _Thunderer_ 's databanks onto his pad while he was aboard the corvette earlier that day. It was just a silly swashbuckling novel, where the hero saves the day and gets the girl, but Ezra welcomed a distraction from the alternating boredom and stress that had filled his life since their escape from Governor Tarkin's Star Destroyer.

The past year, on the _Ghost_ , Ezra's life had been one adventure after another with his newfound family, but now they had spent the last week jumping around the Outer Rim with Commander Tano's fleet, rarely spending more than half a day in any system. He thought they were somewhere in the Tion Cluster right now, but he couldn't remember if Chopper had told him that that was where they were or where they had just been. None of the grown-ups would tell him where they were. "Need-to-know information," Ahsoka had called it. Chop was never one for protocols, though, so the little astromech just plugged into the navicomputer and told Ezra where they were.

Their location wasn't the only question Ahsoka was refusing to answer for him. She wouldn't say much about who or what she was. Even though she was openly carrying a lightsaber on each hip, she said she wasn't a Jedi when Ezra asked. And he could sense that the Force was strong with her -- it felt stronger than when he was around Kanan, even. He had seen a flash of recognition on Kanan's face when they met. Did she and Kanan know each other? Neither of them were talking.

She was expecting Ezra to talk a lot, though. She mostly asked questions about his Force abilities. When did he first notice them? Who had seen him use them? Had he ever had any visions? Some of the questions were about Kanan, though, like what Kanan had him do during training, and what kinds of things Kanan had told him about the Force. Ezra hadn't liked those questions very much. Ahsoka seemed suspicious, or worried, or both. Even though she only ever followed up her questions with more questions, her tone made Ezra feel like he and Kanan had done something wrong.

They had spent hours in a tiny room on the corvette, facing each other across a cold metal desk, going over his entire life story: the loss of his parents, his life on the streets, meeting Kanan and Hera, his run-ins with the Inquisitor, his vision at the Jedi temple. As those hours grew longer and longer, Ezra couldn't help but notice how beautiful the Togruta woman was. She had an easy, reassuring smile that belied the piercing nature of her almond-shaped blue eyes. It was as if she could see through to Ezra's heart and soul and know his deepest desires. Having her undivided attention for hours at a time was intoxicating. He longed to reach out and touch her soft orange skin, to run his hands over the lithe, athletic body that he imagined was concealed under those layers of leather and cloth.

The question he really wanted her to ask was: "You're a virgin, aren't you, Ezra?"

Ezra imagined Ahsoka coming around to his side of the desk, kneeling in front of him, pulling down his trousers, and taking him in her mouth. He desperately wanted to feel her full, moist lips sliding up and down his length.

By now he was straining against his trousers. Zeb would be busy on the corvette for a while yet, so Ezra laid back and released himself from his prison. His shaft twitched in the cool air of the _Ghost_. He stroked up and down, closing his eyes and thinking of Ahsoka, and because he had the wandering mind of a teenage boy, he also thought of how the rear end of an engineer he saw working on the _Thunderer_ filled out her coveralls, and of all the times he had caught a glimpse of Sabine’s sculpted abs while she was wearing pajamas, and the way jet-black hair framed the pretty face of a woman who guarded the corvette’s bridge.

Suddenly, the doors of his quarters slid open, and he heard Sabine’s voice. “Hey Ezra, have you seen—”

“Sabine, no, get out!” Ezra desperately clawed for a blanket to cover himself, and found himself meeting Sabine’s gaze as her eyes widened. With the lightning-quick reflexes she frequently displayed in battle, Sabine punched the button of the doors and Ezra’s torture was over. At least until the next time he had to face Sabine in normal circumstances. He buried his reddening face in the blanket he had finally managed to grab and swore under his breath.


	4. Ahsoka

Commander Ahsoka Tano sat leaning back in her chair, feet propped and crossed on the desk. As she thumbed through the notes she had made on her datapad about Ezra, she laughed softly to herself. In less than a week, the boy had developed a Zanbar-sized crush on her.  Ahsoka was accustomed to even grown men being a bit dumbstruck in her presence, so the fawning reverence of a teenage virgin wasn't going to faze her. Even so, his emotions were far too easy to sense through the Force. This was a very dangerous time for him. The Inquisitor who had been sent to Lothal was dead, but more would be coming, and if Ezra's burgeoning sexual urges were this easy to read, they would be able to sense Ezra's anger and fear from a system away. Ahsoka allowed herself to consider the fact that Ezra might even be putting the fleet in danger at this very moment, but she put it out of her mind immediately. She wouldn't turn her back on Ezra the way the Council had turned their backs on her.

She was actually surprised that Ezra seemed to be a virgin. The Wren girl was pretty and seemed to bear him some affection, and the two had been through so much together. In Ahsoka's observations, that kind of intimacy in combat often led to...another kind of intimacy. She had first noticed it during the Battle of Christophsis, with two clones who always palled around. At the time she had attributed it to the kind of wartime bond that turns soldiers into brothers, but when one was killed by a clanker sniper, the survivor was distraught in a way that went way beyond how one mourns for a fallen comrade. Since then, Ahsoka had lost more comrades that anyone should ever have to, and she knew the difference between losing a fellow soldier and losing a lover, even though those lines occasionally became blurred.

Her thoughts drifted to her own years as a teenage soldier. She thought of Lux Bonteri, and the time that he kissed her on Carlac, and the way her whole body felt like it was on fire. In that moment, she had desperately wanted Lux to be her first, to make her into woman. Looking back, it was strange that she hadn't considered herself a grown woman; she commanded troops, she was fighting in a war. That very night she beheaded four Deathwatch troops. Or was it five? She couldn't remember any more. She had ended so many lives in her thirty-two years.

Ahsoka had not actually lost her innocence until the night she left the Jedi Order. Despondent, and with nowhere to go, she had wandered into a bar on one of Coruscant’s lower levels, the kind of joint that didn’t care if you were old enough to drink, as long as you had the credits. She had some credits, since the Council kept its Jedi well-supplied for missions, but she would need work, and soon, if she wanted to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. It felt like the Order had mostly taught her how to kill, so she thought maybe she could catch on with some bounty hunters, distasteful as that was. There were plenty of those types in this bar, and several of them offered to pay her for her body, but none of them wanted to hire Ahsoka for her combat or flying skills. She ended up drinking alone at the bar, burning through credits to try to forget—forget the Order, forget Anakin, forget Rex, forget all of it.

Eventually a Duros who couldn’t have been more than five or six years older than Ahsoka sat down beside her. He was drinking alone as well, and as the night wore on a few tentative words passed between them, words that Ahsoka was too drunk to register at the time, much less remember all these years later. When last call came, he had a room, and Ahsoka needed somewhere to sleep, so she went with him. He had been rough and careless, hammering in and out of her like she was an object. But Ahsoka had been desperate to feel anything that night, and she liked the heaviness of his body on top of hers, and the fullness and friction she felt between her thighs.

She thought of the time, only a year ago now, when she had seen Lux Bonteri again, quite by chance, during a liaison mission to the Partisans. The Alliance wanted to try to talk some sense into Saw, and it was thought that seeing someone from his past would help grease the wheels. Ahsoka desperately tried to avoid looking in Lux’s direction during the meeting—too much awkwardness had passed between them all those years ago. The Alliance’s gambit backfired: Saw was only reminded of Steela, and he ended up drunk and muttering about her and someone called Jyn. Finally meeting his gaze, Ahsoka saw a sadness in Lux’s eyes at the mention of Steela, and she wished she hadn’t come at all.

But Lux had always been a more accommodating host than Saw, and he took a bottle of drink and led Ahsoka outside, where they sat on a smooth rock and shared swigs from the bottle. They reminisced about the Clone War as the setting sun turned the desert of Jedha into a field of fiery red. Much had happened to Lux since then: he had loved and lost a wife, and spoke with regret of a stepdaughter who was an Imperial loyalist.

One thing led to another, and Ahsoka found herself naked in his bunk. He was so tender and gentle that when he cupped her breasts it was like being caressed by air. She wished she had let Lux see them a decade-and-a-half ago, when they were pert and perfect rather than slowly beginning to sag. Her abdomen, though, was still tight and rippled with muscle, and she let out a tiny gasp as he trailed his lips down it. Once his face was between her legs, the gentleness evaporated somewhat, and he attacked her with his tongue in a way that betrayed the years he had spent in longing and regret.

After she had come a third time Ahsoka rolled Lux onto his back and straddled his face, slowly grinding as he furiously licked her. He grabbed her buttocks with both hands, pulling her closer to her face, as if he was trying to suffocate himself in her. Ahsoka squeezed handfuls of his hair and let out a cry as she finished for a fourth time. She slid off his face and kissed him deeply, probing his mouth with her tongue and savoring the sweet taste of herself.

***

Overwhelmed by the memories, Ahsoka hiked up her tunic and arched her back to lift herself just far enough out of the seat of her chair to slide her leggings down to her knees. She reached between her legs, where she was already slick from desire. She gently ran a finger up and down the soft, naturally hairless cleft before greedily pushing between, stifling a moan as she did.

***

Ahsoka pulled her lips away from Lux’s, almost reluctantly, the kiss on Carlac feeling like only yesterday, and moved slowly down his body until she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head before she demonstrated how minimal her gag reflex was. Lux gasped deeply as Ahsoka’s nose made contact with his lower abdomen, and his entire body turned to gooseflesh as she drew in a breath near it. She bobbed her head on him a few times, causing him to utter a guttural moan before he gently tapped her left montral.

“Not yet,” he pleaded. Ahsoka slid her lips off of him and grinned as she wiped her mouth. She climbed slightly higher on his torso and wrapped a guiding hand around him as she lowered herself onto him. They both drew in a sharp breath as he pushed past the slight resistance and slid easily inside.

***

Ahsoka briefly pushed two fingers inside herself for lubrication before resuming the ever-faster circles around her clitoris. She breaths were quick and shallow, and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, trying to cling to her memories of Lux.

***

Lux grazed his fingers up and down the orange skin of her flanks as she rode him. Ahsoka snatched his right hand and lifted it to one of her lekku. Understanding, he wrapped his hand lightly around it and stroked.

“Harder,” she breathed. Lux’s grip tightened, and this time he tugged slightly as his hand slid down her left lekku. Ahsoka cried out, no longer caring if the rest of the Partisans heard her. In that moment, she didn’t care if the damned Empire heard her and came in guns blazing. She increased the pace of her ride, heard their thighs slapping together, and took Lux’s free hand in hers. She squeezed his hand tightly and let out a sharp cry as she finished, throwing her head back as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

She rolled onto her back and let Lux mount her so he could finish, wrapping her long legs around him and digging her nails into his back. He had been close to climax, and now his thrusts were quick and furious. Finally he groaned, and the spasms of his cock and the spurts of hot liquid inside her were enough for Ahsoka to finish a sixth time. As their bodies ceased twitching, their eyes met, and Ahsoka saw that Lux’s were filled with the beginning of tears. She softly kissed his forehead and hugged his head tightly to her chest.

***

Ahsoka bit down on her left fist as her right hand brought her to orgasm, her hips bucking as she clamped her thighs together and collapsed against the chair. Once her breath had begun to return to a normal rate, she pulled up her leggings, and then wiped the hot tears from her cheeks.


	5. Hera

Hera, with Chopper noisily rolling behind her, walked into the _Ghost_ ’s lounge and found Sabine sitting at the dejarik table, her chin propped pensively in one hand. Her hair was no longer deep blue and fiery orange, but a brighter, neon blue, with turquoise highlights.

“Hey,” Sabine said, looking up and folding her hands in her lap under the table, as if Hera wouldn’t have noticed her moping. “How was the briefing?”

“To be honest,” Hera replied, sliding onto the bench next to her, “not very informative and not very productive. It’s hard to juggle so many differing viewpoints and needs.”

“It feels like we spend so much time waiting around and debating lately.”

“Things are going to be different for us. We are part of something bigger than ourselves now. We’ve gotten used to following our hearts and acting in the moment, but now our actions have to serve the needs and goals of the Alliance.”

“I thought I wanted to be part of a wider rebellion,” Sabine almost whispered, “but now that we are I’m not so sure. I don’t want things to change.”

“Ahsoka says you can't stop change any more than you can stop the suns from setting. It’s something a mentor of hers told her, I think. Things can and will change. But this family, the five of us? We’ll always be there for each other.” An indignant electronic squawk came from across the room. “—the six of us. Sorry, Chopper.”

Sabine stared down at her lap.

“So, uh, was…was Captain Holdo at the briefing?”

“She was, along with—wait, how do you know Captain Holdo?”

“We, uh, met on the _Thunderer_. In the quartermaster’s stores. I needed cleaning solution for my blasters.”

“You could’ve just added the solution to Zeb’s shopping list. We were invited to restock, but I don’t want it to look like we’re eating them out of house and home,” Hera admonished. The Alliance’s dire supply situation had been a subject at the briefing.

“You know how I am about my gear.”

“I do,” Hera sighed, deciding to let it lie. With two teenagers on board, it was sometimes easier to just let them have a few secrets. Force knows I had a few when I was their age, she thought.

“What do you know about her?”

“Captain Holdo? She’s from Gatalenta. A brilliant strategist for how young she is. Apparently, she’s a member of the Organa’s inner circle.” Hera started to add that Holdo was a little…odd, but she was starting to suspect the reason behind Sabine’s line of questioning, so she decided to stay quiet.

“Oh, okay,” Sabine replied with spurious indifference. After a moment, and quieter, she asked “Did you get to see Kanan while you were over there?”

“No, he was sleeping,” Hera replied, glancing at Sabine, who quickly averted her gaze.

“He’ll be okay. He’s strong,” Sabine said emphatically.

“I know. I worry about Ezra, though. He’s been through a lot, and he’s so dependent on Kanan.”

Sabine tried to suppress a sudden burst of laughter, but it came spurting through her lips anyway.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Sabine choked out, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s been a long few days, I could use a laugh if something’s funny.”

“You don’t want to know.”

Hera straightened. “Okay, I am ordering you to tell me.”

“Ezra. I…I… _walked in_ on Ezra today.”

“You’re right, I didn’t want to know,” Hera said, resting her forehead in her palm. _He was probably thinking about you_ , was the thought she didn’t voice to Sabine. Chopper didn’t have the same level of restraint, though.

“Chop!” Hera said sharply. Chopper raised his retractable arms in something that was meant to resemble a shrug.

If Sabine had understood the droid, she pretended not to. “I need to clean my blasters,” she said, starting to stand up. Hera reached up and took her hand.

“You know I meant it when I we’ll always be there for each other, right? No matter how crazy everything gets.”

“I know,” Sabine said, squeezing Hera’s hand tightly before turning away and starting to leave the room.

“And always remember to knock,” Hera called after her, finally allowing herself to laugh.

“No kidding!”


	6. Sabine

Zeb Orrelios rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck as he ambled down the corridor. “Ah, it feels good to get in some time in a proper shooting range again!” Sabine had just spent an hour with him in the _Thunderer_ ’s shooting range. It was fairly top of the line for an Alliance facility, with holographic targets and an automated scorekeeping system.

“Yeah, I was getting a little rusty. We don’t actually blast stormtroopers often enough for me to stay fresh,” Sabine complained as she walked beside him, trying to keep up with his long, loping strides.

“You’ve improved a lot, though,” Zeb observed, “You’re almost as good a shot as me now.”

“I had twice as many kills as you in there!”

“Because you have twice as many guns!”

“Oh, is that why?” Sabine cooed with mock surprise as she playfully shoulder-checked the big lasat. “Anyway, I can still do ten times as much damage with a bomb than you do with your bo-rifle.”

Zeb waggled his fingers in sarcasm. “Oooo, look at the big, scary explosives specialist. At least I know to knock before walking into someone’s bedroom.”

“Hey!” Sabine yelled, throwing a punch into his shoulder that was half-friendly, half-angry.

“Count yourself lucky, I have to share a room with the kid,” he laughed.

“Who told you, Ezra or Hera?” Sabine paused. “It was Chopper, wasn’t it?”

“Doesn’t matter. Not like anything stays a secret on our ship for long anyway.”

 “Someone might want to tell that to Hera and Kanan.”

“Ha!” Zeb barked. His expression turned somber. “Is Hera doing okay?”

“What makes you think I would know any better than you? She barely tells me anything. She’s holding it together, I guess. It mostly seems like she’s worried about Ezra.”

“I would be too. At this rate he’s gonna end up with a wrist injury!”

“Ugh!” Sabine squeezed her eyes shut to try to block out the image. They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with Amilyn Holdo.

“C-Captain Holdo,” Sabine stammered.

“Sabine,” the Captain replied, nodding. “Garazeb Orrelios, it’s good to finally meet you.”

“Everyone usually just calls me Zeb,” he answered, although Holdo didn’t seem to hear him. She and Sabine stood staring at one another.

Zeb awkwardly scratched his chin and then broke the silence. “I’ve got to check…things…on…the ship,” he offered as he quickly continued walking. He turned and walked backwards for a moment as he receded down the corridor. “I’ll see you later, Sabine,” he called, with an emphasis on _later_ that bordered on salacious. Sabine looked past Holdo’s shoulder and gave him a pleading look. Zeb shrugged and winked.

With Zeb gone, Holdo finally spoke, “I’m glad I ran into you. I was going to have some tea in my quarters. Would you care to join me?”

“I, um, I appreciate the invitation, Capt—”

“Call me Amilyn.” It was phrased as a command, but Amilyn broke into a smile that made it seem like more of a hope and a wish.

Sabine stared at the floor, suddenly reconsidering. _I’m a soldier in a war and I could die tomorrow_. “Okay…Amilyn.”


End file.
